In Darkness Secrets Lie
by VacantSkies
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all friends, and friends would never hurt each other, right? AU.
1. Prologue: Stolen

Prologue - Stolen

"_Ron, we need to talk._"

The lanky red-head groggily sat up in bed, slowly coming to terms with his surroundings. One of the Cannons on the poster which he'd stuck to the ceiling over his bed yawned and waved tiredly at him as the rest of the team slept soundly; some were hunched over on their brooms while others had simply fallen out of the frame. Ron smiled unconcernedly at the poster and then frowned. Why had he woken up in the middle of the night? Hadn't he heard something? Wasn't there someone who had called his name...?

The gears in his head sluggishly began to shift into motion and he took a slow look around his room through half-lidded eyes.

His gaze finally came to rest on a shadowy figure with disheveled dark hair a few feet away. He quietly regarded his best friend, who was standing at the far corner of his bedroom at the Burrow, staring idly out the window. With his raspy, sleepy voice he asked, "What are you doing up right now? It's late, you should be asleep."

Harry didn't acknowledge his friend at all and Ron began to wonder if he'd just imagined hearing him say something. After a moment of silence, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squirmed over to the edge of his bed.

"Harry?" he tried, but again there was no response. There was a certain, uneasy strangeness to the situation and he felt as if he was viewing the scene through an unfocused lens rather than living in it. An expression of concern and curiosity crept onto Ron's face as he studied his silent friend. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and as his bare feet touched the cool wood floorboards, Harry craned his neck around and looked over in his direction, wearing an unsettlingly cheerful smile.

"Nice night, isn't it?"

He'd spoken the words in a completely normal, conversational tone; if he'd said them at any other time, in another place, there would have been no cause for alarm. However, Ron began to feel very alarmed when Harry nonchalantly opened the window with a lazy wave of his wand and cackled mischievously as he peered up at the moon, which shimmered brightly behind a cotton ball of clouds. He rested his arms across his bent knee and grinned crookedly at Ron, who stood at the side of his bed, rooted in place.

"Er, yeah, it is," he murmured. He clumsily fumbled around on his nightstand, looking for his wand, when he felt the blood drain from his face and his breath caught in his throat.

Harry casually withdrew a familiar, ash wand from his pocket and held it up into the silver moonlight, inspecting it closely. He absently twirled it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. After a moment, he nodded knowingly, like a wine connoisseur might do after tasting a fine vintage. His sparkling emerald eyes bore into Ron's and in a low voice he said, "I like your wand."

"Um." Ron was now fully awake and he could feel sweat starting to drip down the inside of his shirt, although he was too afraid to tug at his collar for fear of what Harry might do if he made any sudden movements. "So, uh, what are you doing?"

"Well," Harry began. His face adopted a look of intense concentration as he aimed his wand at Ron's. "I was wondering what was inside of it... _Diffindo!_"

A wood splinter tore itself away from Ron's beloved wand and dropped to the floor.

"Oi! What are you doing to my wand?!"

Harry arched an eyebrow and gave him a quizzical sidelong glance before he returned to dismantling the other wizard's wand. "I'm making sure you won't be able to stop me from doing what I'm about to do."

Ron's blood ran cold and he felt his muscles tense up. Shakily he asked, "And just what is it that you're going to do?"

"_Diffindo_." The final piece of his wand fell to the floor, joining the rest of the splinters to form a sad pile of wooden remains. Perhaps it was the pale moonlight playing tricks on his eyes, but Ron thought he saw a shadow flicker across Harry's face for a bare second as the other boy patiently began to advance towards him, wand raised and pointed firmly at him. When the wand was pressing into his neck and the two were standing only inches apart, Harry allowed a sinister smirk to show. "I'm getting you out of my way, Ron. You are, after all, only holding me back."

His cruel laugh was the last thing he heard before the world went dark around him.

**12/5/06**

Prologue's a bit on the short side, but I promise the rest will be normal length!


	2. Chapter 1: World

Chapter One – World's End

Ronald Weasley slowly came to, consciousness returning to him in snatches of vibrant color and sound, in bits and pieces of watery thoughts and memories. The sudden surge of awareness was too much for his aching head to handle after such a long period of silence and he groaned, clutching feebly at his scalp, wishing he could simply massage away the pain. Somewhere behind him there was a low chuckle and at last he opened his eyes.

The first thing he could make out was the warm, flickering glow of a torch projected across a flat, smooth stone ceiling. Painfully turning his head around he could see that he was in a small, rectangular room with a sturdy-looking wooden door at one end and a barred window high up on the wall at the other end. He struggled to his feet and stumbled – a sudden head rush made the world spin and he leaned heavily against the wall for support.

"I s'pose I must've hit you harder than I thought," drawled a familiar voice. "I think you'll be all right, though – it was only a Stunner." Ron slowly looked up with disbelief at the other occupant of – there was no other word for it – his cell. "Now that I think about it... maybe aiming at your face wasn't such a good idea. Come closer into the light, let me have a better look at you."

Ron shook his head and scowled. "My skull feels like it's about to split apart any moment now, thanks to you. I feel fine right where I'm standing."

"You mean right where you're _slouching_."

"_Fuck you_, Harry!" shouted Ron. "What the bloody hell did you attack me for? And _where are we?_"

Harry laughed out loud and his voice bounced off the stone walls. Judging by how long the echo lasted, Ron guessed that whatever dungeon they were currently in was quite sizable.

"We're at world's end, that's what," he proudly exclaimed. A serene smile appeared on his face. "And I'm going to stop it... and then we won't be anywhere anymore, no, no, no."

"You're mental."

"I'm _enlightened_."

"Well, all right then, _enlighten_ me as to why we're sitting in a sodding prison cell."

"Fine." Harry shrugged. "We're here because I brought us here."

"_What?_"

"Just follow me," he said as he pulled his wand out from his sleeve. Harry aimed his wand at the door and cleared his throat before saying, "Open, please."

With the barest of squeaks from its well-oiled hinges, the thick door cracked open and Harry swept out of the cell, walking at a brisk pace down a hallway lined with dozens of doors identical to the one he'd just opened. Wordlessly, Ron steadied himself and followed after his friend, a million questions riding on the tip of his tongue. After creeping down the chilly corridor without speaking for a few minutes, Ron finally asked, "So... where is _here_, exactly?"

Harry passed him a curious glance from over his shoulder. "I already told you. We're at world's end."

"That doesn't _mean_ anything to me, Harry."

"World's end," he repeated. With another shrug, he returned his focus to the long stretch of hallway before them.

"So that's it? That's all you're going to say?" Ron hastened his pace until he was at Harry's side. "God_damn_ it, Harry! What's going on?"

The other boy sighed and raised his eyebrows in something akin to amusement. "You really want to know?"

"Yes," came the exasperated reply. "_Please_."

"All right then, don't be mad at me once I say it."

"I promise."

"Good," he said as he took his glasses off and began to polish them with a nonverbal charm. "We're in a castle occupied by Death Eaters at world's end. And," he continued, holding a hand up to silence Ron, "it's called world's end because this fortress doesn't exist anywhere on the normal plane where home is."

A pensive expression overtook Ron's features. His brow furrowed up in concentration, his lips pressed themselves tightly together, and his eyes stared off at some distant, unseen object. At length, he finally pointed out, "But you still didn't answer my question..."

"What?" Harry paused in his tracks and turned around to face Ron. He folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, I bet you're wondering why we're here, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah..."

"It's simple, really," stated Harry matter-of-factly. "Voldemort invited me here." He jerked his thumb towards the entrance they were standing by. "Here's our stop," he added as he knocked on the door.

o0o0o0o0o

"They're gone! _They're gone!_"

"They're wha- _who's_ gone?" demanded Ginny as she sat up in bed. "Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"Harry! And Ron! _Gone!_"

To Ginny, her best friend looked like a nervous wreck: her bushy hair was sticking out at odd angles, there were baggy ovals lurking under her wild eyes, and she was breathing heavily, as if she had just sprinted up and down a flight of steps.

"H-Hermione, slow down! Y-you're not making any sense!" Ginny stammered. Despite the fact that she was still comfortably situated in bed, the other girl's nervousness was contagious, and she could feel her heartbeat starting to pick up. "What do you mean, 'they're gone'? They couldn't have just left – Dumbledore _himself_ put up the Anti-Apparition thingies around the Burrow and Moody's outside, prowling about the lawn-"

Hermione held up her hands. She was holding what at first glance appeared to be some twigs, but upon closer inspection became not just any splinters of wood, but the ruined pieces of a wand.

"What in Merlin's name..." breathed Ginny as she leaned in for a better view. "_Lumos._ Wait a second... _ash_ wood? But that's..."

She looked up into Hermione's frightened eyes and she suddenly realized the full gravity of their current predicament.

"Ron's wand... but- where did you find this?"

"Upstairs. In his room."

"How...?"

"I couldn't sleep," Hermione began. She swallowed and gingerly sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed. "I wasn't tired. So I went upstairs to go see if Harry and Ron were still up; I thought maybe we could've stayed up and chatted. When I got to their room, I heard them talking... I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but it almost sounded like they were _arguing_."

"Arguing?"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "I know. I mean, I don't know."

"Go on," Ginny murmured, putting a reassuring arm around Hermione. "What happened next?"

"I... I waited outside. I didn't want to intrude. But then... then I saw a flash of red light shine through under the door and I didn't care if I was being rude. I rushed inside and... there was nobody there. All I could find was Ron's wand."

"We need to go tell mum and dad," Ginny declared firmly as she rose out of bed. "They can get the rest of the Order and we'll begin the search for them immediately. Come on, let's go." She was standing in the doorway when she noticed that Hermione was still sitting on her bed. "Hermione?"

"Ginny," she said in a barely audible voice. "I'm scared."

The youngest Weasley chewed on her bottom lip. Ginny stepped back over to her bed and offered her hand to Hermione. In a quiet, strong voice she stated, "They'll come back home. I know it."

o0o0o0o0o

In less than twenty minutes, more than two dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix had assembled in the kitchen of the Burrow. Almost thirty witches and wizards sat grim-faced and silent around a magically enlarged table; people exchanged dark glances and quiet whispers, as if afraid speaking out loud would make their worst suspicions come true. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated with Ginny and Hermione near the head of the table, where Albus Dumbledore looked calmly out at the rest of the Order. To his right was Minerva McGonagall, appearing only slightly less collected than he, and on his left stood Mad-Eye Moody, refusing to take a seat in his preference for constant vigilance.

"I hope they know what they're doing," Ginny whispered to Hermione as she looked warily from face to face, not recognizing half of them. "I don't even know these people. The Order hasn't been the same since... well, you know."

The other girl shook her head wearily. "We've lost so many. There are only so many here tonight because it's an emergency."

"You're right," she replied, grimacing slightly. Ginny's eyes came to rest on a giant woman looming over three nearly identical-looking men all seated next to each other. "Hey, the French brothers are here with Madame Maxime..." A tiny sigh escaped her lips and she cupped her chin in her hands. "I wish Bill and Charlie could've come..."

"Don't worry about them," Hermione answered quietly, extending a hand to rub her friend's back. "I'm sure they're safe wherever they are."

"Quiet," chimed in Mr. Weasley, sounding unusually grave. "The meeting is about to begin."

Just as he finished saying those words, Albus Dumbledore stood up. "For the benefit of those just arriving, I shall explain the circumstances once again." His voice, powerful and unafraid, sliced through the low murmur of conversation and silence followed. "It is true – Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have disappeared from the Burrow this evening."

Not a soul uttered a single word after this announcement – a true testament to the headmaster's great ability to command the attention of those around him.

"From the information provided by Miss Granger-" he made a polite gesture towards her and she inclined her head slightly "-it appears that they have been captured by none other than Lord Voldemort."

"_Imposs-eebleh!_" boomed an enraged voice from the back of the table. A proud-looking young wizard leapt to his feet at the back of the room. He was flanked by two men who were unmistakably his brothers. "Is it not true zat _you_ were responsible for ze security of ze Boy-Who-Lived? We trusted you with zis, Dumbledore!"

"You are correct, Monsieur Gérard," Dumbledore replied steadily. "I made it my responsibility to erect the magical wards around the Burrow and I left Alastor in charge of-"

"Zen it is _hees _fault zat Monsieur Potter has gone missing!" he proclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Moody.

However, before Moody could growl back in his defense, Madame Maxime intervened, draping a giant hand over Gérard's entire shoulder, forcing him back into his seat. "Please continue," she said placidly, directing her gaze at Dumbledore.

With an appreciative nod of his head, he carried on with his explanation. "Alastor and I have ruled out the idea that there were Death Eaters anywhere on the premises tonight – which leads me to conclude that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were transported via Portkey."

Tense murmurs were quickly passed from ear to ear around the table. Even though Madame Maxime was still holding Gérard steadily by the shoulder, a mutinous scowl spread across his face and in a loud voice he stated, "Zer is a traitor among us."

"No... that can't be true," responded Hestia Jones, although her voice sounded a little unsure. She glanced furtively up toward the head of the table. "We've taken... certain precautions since London-"

"Face it!" Gérard slammed his fist against the table and all eyes in the room instantly became focused on him. "Eet is like Grimmauld Place all over again."

His brothers nodded approvingly and looked out at the rest of the Order with apparent mistrust. Ginny glanced cautiously over at Dumbledore to see his reaction. The great wizard was sitting completely still with his hands folded in front of him, yet there was an intense gleam in his eyes, telling Ginny that he wasn't about to lie down and allow the Order to be wrenched away from his grasp.

Emboldened by the lack of a response, Gérard continued, "No known Death Eaters could have entered ze Burrow. Zat means it was someone _here_, it was one of you!"

"Watch who yer accusin' of treachery!" barked Hagrid. He jumped up in a rush and accidentally knocked poor Tonks off her seat. "I know the Weasleys! They're one of the greatest wizarding families alive!"

"Gérard's argument is not a baseless accusation." Kingsley Shacklebolt rose from his seat; his air of cool, competent professionalism ended the short exchange and Hagrid forcefully dropped back into his chair, which shook threateningly beneath him. Shacklebolt peered around the table and his intense gaze made a few members squirm uncomfortably. "Unless Voldemort has made a revolutionary breakthrough in magical transportation, the only possible way that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley could have left the Burrow tonight – undetected, that is – would have been with the assistance of a Portkey, exactly as Dumbledore said."

He paused for a moment and held his hands out in an expression of disappointment. "Of course, if they were taken by a Portkey, we have no way of knowing where they are. However," he went on, "I will make it my personal responsibility to get to the bottom of this mess." Shacklebolt waited a heartbeat and then finally he added, "If you had any part to play in this, be assured that your days are numbered."

And with that, he stalked out of the kitchen, leaving feelings of unease in his wake. An awkward lull draped itself over the entire room, until at last Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "We cannot allow Voldemort to divide us from within like this. There is not a single person in this room who I would not trust with my life." His fierce blue eyes darted around the table, as if seeking anyone who would challenge his words. Nobody dared to speak out in protest and he nodded curtly in dismissal. "Very well, then. This meeting is adjourned."

The kitchen of the Burrow was instantly filled with the sounds of dozens of chair legs scraping across hard wood floors and witches and wizards saying their polite good byes and farewells to one another. Ginny slid off of the bench she had been sitting on and headed off in the direction of the stairs, Hermione following in her footsteps.

"That wasn't very encouraging, was it?" Hermione wondered out loud as they made their way up the steps.

"No," came Ginny's dull response. "It wasn't."

"Do you..." Hermione bit her lip. "Do you really think that... someone here is a... a _traitor?_"

The younger girl halted in her tracks and looked back at Hermione, meeting her questioning stare. "I..." She took a breath and then shook her head. "No. Of course not."

"Good," she replied. "Me neither."

o0o0o0o0o

Minerva McGonagall strode purposefully down a worn dirt path next to Dumbledore and Moody. She carefully straightened her hat atop her head and frowned.

"Do you think Gérard is right?" she asked after a slight delay. "That... someone has betrayed us?"

The headmaster's forehead was wrinkled up in deep thought and he absently stroked his lengthy beard. "I can see no other way. There must be someone on the inside at the Burrow... the question is: who? Alastor, you've been staying with the Weasleys for a few days. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

"No sir," came the prompt answer. "I knew you'd be asking me and I was thinking about it when we were still in the meeting. I got nothing for you." The former Auror angrily spat on the ground and reached for his hip flask. "I can tell you for sure that the only people I've seen at the Burrow for the last week have been Mr. and Mrs., the youngest Weasley, and Harry and his friends. No one else has come close."

Dumbledore made a discontented noise in the back of his throat and stopped suddenly. "I think we're far enough outside the perimeter... yes, we should be able to Disapparate from here." He lowered his voice and McGonagall and Moody both leaned in so they could hear him. "I have a theory," he voiced softly. "However, it's best if we do not discuss it here." Then, in a cheery voice he asked, "Anyone fancy a drink?"

"Aye," growled Moody as he took another generous swig from his flask.

"Excellent," he murmured. "You both know where to go." With a mischievous wink and a twirl of his robes, Dumbledore was gone.

o0o0o0o0o

_Enter._

He felt the voice more than he heard it; although nobody had spoken it out loud, the mere _intent_ of the word had popped into his brain and he was now being drawn into the room behind Harry. He should have been afraid – but he wasn't. Where, under any other circumstances, there would have been fear, Ron felt only an acute sensation of curiosity. His feet plodded forward on their own and all he could do was watch, spellbound, as his own body disregarded his instinct to flee.

_Welcome, my child. I sense that you have accomplished that which you intended._

Once again, the meaning of the words made themselves clear to Ron even though nobody had spoken audibly. However, this time, he could tell that the Speaker wasn't talking to him. The voice was directed at Harry. He took a cautious look at his surroundings but he could not gleam much – nearly the entire room was shrouded in darkness and the only source of light came from the open door from which they had entered. A discomfiting sensation of vulnerability washed over Ron as he stood there in the center of the room, and he shivered involuntarily.

"I believe I have deceived the Order."

It took Ron a second to realize that Harry was talking and he tried again to locate the Speaker, but to no avail.

_Good. They believe you are innocent?_

"I think so, yes. Nobody even had any suspicions, not even Moody."

_Excellent_.

"What would you have me do with Weasley?" Harry asked. His voice was emotionless, detached, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of his emotions – there was an intensity lurking behind his fierce emerald gaze that Ron couldn't quite comprehend. Whose side was Harry really on? Was he acting as a double agent or had he truly become a traitor to the cause?

'_What is Harry doing? And... Weasley?_' thought Ron. '_Since when has he called me _Weasley?'

His contemplation was interrupted as the Speaker's next words flowed into his mind again, making it difficult to concentrate.

_I will keep him here. Perhaps he may be of some value in the near future. However, for now, I want you to return to the Order and lead them astray on the hunt for your friend. You will be the inspiration that they so desperately seek in these times... yes... it will be perfect..._

"As you wish." Harry inclined his head in acknowledgment of the order and exited the room, leaving Ron by himself with the Speaker.

Surprisingly enough, Ron still did not feel afraid. There was something oddly comforting and alluring about the voice of the Speaker and his curiosity in the matter had not waned, it had only grown stronger as he had listened to Harry receive his instructions. While on a certain mental level he understood that the Speaker had undeniably malevolent intentions, he did not sense any open hostility from the being. He wasn't completely sure of what was to become of him, but he knew that standing still and mulling over his situation wouldn't benefit him at all.

_You are quite the silent one, Mr. Weasley._

"Um." He tried to swallow but the enormous lump in his throat made it difficult to do so.

_Do not be afraid. I don't want to hurt you._

"But you would if you had to, right?"

_Yes._

"Oh."

_Tell me, Mr. Weasley, do you have any idea who I am?_

Ron was so nervous the words flew out of his mouth before he could say anything else. "You're a creepy old man who ordered my best friend to attack and kidnap me?"

_...not the answer I was looking for._

"Er- sorry."

"Don't get too comfortable with me," whispered the Speaker. All of a sudden the voice was no longer a series of abstract ideas in his head, it was a mere few inches from his ear and Ron could feel the light brush of the Speaker's breath on the back of his neck. He didn't want to make any sudden movements for fear of startling the Speaker, so he froze in place and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I am the enemy, Mr. Weasley," the Speaker began. "I am capable of things you can't even begin to imagine. Lord Voldemort is but a puppet to me and soon, yes, soon... our mission will be accomplished. However, in the meantime, I have a proposition for you. Are you listening?"

Ron gulped and nodded his head.

**Note (January 28, 2007):**

I really wasn't lying when I said that I was actually working on this chapter :)

I gotta tell everyone... school is so much more fun and relaxing than working full time. Geez...


	3. Chapter 2: Trust

_Note: _I've noted in the summary that this story is AU. Although this is set after book six and Sirius is dead, Dumbledore isn't, and that's all I've changed. I also upped the rating from teen, 15, or PG-13 to R, Mature, etc, for that f-bomb Ron dropped in the last chapter (he's sorry!), as well as for what may or may not occur in later chapters.

Chapter Two - Trust  


Ginny's lip curled down into a petulant frown and she sniffed indignantly. "What's _he_ doing here, mum?" she wondered out loud, gesturing out the window towards the approaching form of Gaston Gérard, who was coming up the path to the front door of the Burrow. He wore a long, elegant robe and he carried himself rather stiffly, keeping his back straight, his chest puffed out, and his shoulders square, as if he was marching in an army.

"He offered his services in security," Remus Lupin answered evenly, stepping over to Ginny so he could peer over her head to see Gérard. "He was rather upset with Alastor because of Harry's disappearance..."

"Moody didn't have anything to do with that!"

"We all know that. Monsieur Gérard still wanted to come."

"Remus is right," explained Mrs. Weasley. "The added protection he's bringing will be very welcome."

"But we already _have_ protection," Ginny pointed out impatiently. "Moody, Remus, and Tonks are here. Aren't they enough?"

"He _insisted_ on being included," chipped in Tonks, who had just joined them. "It wasn't my decision to bring him along. Besides, I won't be able to stay here all the time. I've got to work at the Ministry..."

"Stupid Frenchman," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"_Ginny!_" hissed Mrs. Weasley. The youngest Weasley merely rolled her eyes in response and stalked out of the foyer, hurrying up the steps so she wouldn't have to confront Gérard.

As soon as she was gone, there were three sharp knocks on the front door. Wearing a polite expression, Mrs. Weasley opened the door and welcomed Gérard into her home with a gracious handshake.

"Madame," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. He craned his neck around to have a better look at the house and he suddenly noticed Remus and Tonks standing besides Mrs. Weasley. Gérard quickly extended his hand to each of them. "Monsieur Lupin, Mademoiselle Tonks. How do you do?"

"We're quite well today, thank you," replied Remus in a pleasant voice. "It's an honor to work with you, Monsieur Gérard-"

"Please, let us dispense with ze formalities." A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. "It is Gaston."

"Mon- er, _Gaston_, it is a pleasure to have you stay with us. I'll show you to your room," offered Mrs. Weasley.

"Zat would be most welcome." He made as if to follow her up the steps when he stopped and looked around at everyone once more. The smile on his face faded and his eyes narrowed. "Where is he?"

"Excuse me?" piped up Remus.

"Mad-Eye," Gérard muttered. He stalked past the three and started poking his head into different rooms, making sure to open up closets and glance out windows along the way. "How long has he been out of sight?"

Tonks shared a knowing look with Remus, who shrugged and followed after Gérard. "I assure you, there's nothing to worry about."

The older man halted in his footsteps and fixed Remus with a stern stare. "Zer is _everything_ to worry about," he responded in a harsh whisper.

He then continued on with his search, brushing by Tonks as she entered the room. She arched an eyebrow at Remus. "What did he say to you?"

He shook his head and turned his gaze away from her over to a wall where animated portraits of the Weasley children waved happily over at him. With a heavy sigh he said, "It's going to be an interesting experience working with _two_ paranoid men instead of just one."

**XXXXX**

Hermione was sitting on her bed with a large textbook in her lap when Ginny came into the room and kicked the door shut, wearing a sullen expression. She casually glanced up at her friend. "You're sulking," she remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"And you're not?" Ginny retorted, exhaling loudly. She flopped down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. "My brother and Harry have been missing for a week and now we have a stuffy old man living with us who thinks one of us is a Death Eater. Things _suck_ around here."

"Why are you so upset about Gérard?" Hermione set her book aside and looked over at Ginny with interest. "He's here to help."

"He accused _one of us_ of kidnapping Harry and Ron!" she shot back. "The man's here for blood... and I don't know, he just makes me uncomfortable."

"Really," muttered Hermione, more to herself than to Ginny.

"Yeah."

"Well, he won't be here forever."

"Oh?" Ginny scrunched her nose up. "I know... You're right. Still, though..."

"Don't worry," Hermione said helpfully. "Harry's going to come back, I know it."

"And Ron?" Ginny snapped back.

"...He'll come back, too," she answered after a barely noticeable moment of hesitation.

"Right..." Ginny murmured, a small, worried frown appearing on her face. "Of course he will."

Hermione gave her a cheerful smile before disappearing behind her book again.

**XXXXX**

Ron was in a mutinous mood. At the moment, he felt like lashing out and hitting something – or rather, some_one_. He paced restlessly around his room and stopped in front of a towering portrait of a rather dodgy-looking wizard who scowled right back at him.

"What are you looking at?" he muttered, glaring at the portrait. "Why don't you go bother the hag in the painting next door?"

"An excellent idea," the wizard answered, grinning and showing his yellowed teeth.

As soon as he had left, Ron turned his attention to the only window in his room. On the night he'd arrived, it had been too dark to see out any of the windows in the fortress, yet in the days he'd since spent at World's End, he'd discovered that there was always a blanket of mist hovering outside, making it seem as if the fortress was sitting on a cloud. The lack of a view outside only made his loneliness worse for him, because after thoroughly exploring the castle during his stay, he had arrived at the disheartening conclusion that he was alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Curiously, Ron hadn't found any evidence that Death Eaters were or ever had been present in the castle in his searches. There weren't any cast aside Death Eater robes, masks, or banners with the Dark Mark hanging around anywhere, although he supposed that Voldemort probably wasn't a big fan of decorations like that. Even so, Ron found plenty of time each day to speculate on the fact and wonder: Was Voldemort really a part of this? Or had he been lied to? Perhaps the Speaker had merely been trying to manipulate him...

He wasn't going to find an answer anytime soon – not even the omnipotent Speaker was around anymore. The last time they'd spoken had been the night of Ron's capture. On that night, the Speaker had made a simple offer that Ron hadn't been able to refuse: _If you cooperate, I will keep you alive_. So far Ron hadn't been forced to cooperate at all with anyone – he'd simply been left alone, and that suited him fine.

He sighed and sat down on a blood red armchair, scratching his head thoughtfully. "_What day is it? I feel like I've been here for almost a week now._"

It was no use thinking about it – the question would surely drive him mad if he dwelt on it for much longer.

"Bah, it seems like everything's making me mad," he said out loud to no one. "Well, angry or crazy, and sometimes both..."

"You're talking to yourself," wheezed a dusty mirror in the corner. "I'd say you're crazy."

"Shut it, you," Ron responded, slouching back further into his chair.

"Now you're arguing with a mirror, boy," the piece of furniture quipped. He scowled at it and saw only his own reflection, though he could hear the self-satisfied smirk in its voice. Suddenly losing his cool, he leapt at the mirror and kicked it as hard as he could – he watched as his reflection cracked and then shattered a second later, showering the floor with sharp pieces of glass.

He quietly left the room, feeling better about himself already. He _had_ wanted to hit something, anyway.

"God damn you, Harry," he spat out, clenching his fists. "Mental son of a bitch."

"I'd say that _you've_ gone mental," observed a nearby portrait.

Ron raised a threatening finger at the cheeky picture. "Don't start with me. I'm _not_ in the mood."

**XXXXX**

Albus could tell by the way Minerva was standing that she was uncomfortable. He pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his crooked nose and watched as she anxiously tapped her foot against the floor.

"You don't want to be here."

She frowned and shook her head. "Is there nowhere else?"

"I'm afraid not, no," came the answer. "Kingsley's schedule is very tight and he would not have been able to make it all the way up to the castle in time." Then he added, "I trust Rosmerta."

Minerva sighed and turned her gaze out the window. "I see them now. Alastor's just met Kingsley and they're making their way over here."

"Excellent."

Just then, there was a light tapping on the door to the private room of the Hog's Head and Madam Rosmerta entered, levitating a tray with some drinks behind her. "Here's your gillywater, Minerva... and Albus, your tea..." She hovered by the doorway for an extra moment, looking expectantly at each of them.

"Thank you, Rosmerta," Dumbledore said warmly with a slight nod of his head. The tone of his voice made it clear he had nothing further to say. She left without another word.

"She wanted to know whatever it is that you're about to tell us," Minerva said in a dry voice. "I thought you said you trusted her?"

"I do, believe me, I do." He took a sip of his drink. "But this is something that I want to keep private for now."

At that moment, the door swung open yet again and Moody and Shacklebolt both stepped into the room. Mad-Eye gave a disapproving look at the drink sitting on the tray and helped himself to a generous swig from his hip flask.

"Please, be seated," Dumbledore stated, gesturing to the sofa and the arm chairs scattered about the room.

"Forgive me if I decline." Shacklebolt rolled his sleeve back and glanced at his watch. "Dolores is expecting me back at half past." He spoke the name with disdain apparent in his voice and the other witches and wizards nodded in understanding.

"Very well, then," the older wizard replied. "Let us begin with the facts. The whereabouts of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are still unknown. I have not received any word on Death Eater movements in the past week – which I find to be quite disturbing, I must say. It doesn't seem as if Voldemort was involved in their disappearances at all."

Minerva made a concerned noise in the back of his throat and Moody grunted.

"While it may seem as if we do not have any leads, I have a theory that I wish to share with you. I believe that there _is_ a spy at the Burrow. The identity of this agent may shock you, but I do not want you to show her any mercy if you are forced to deal with her."

"Her?" Shacklebolt inquired, his air of boredom instantly gone.

"Yes."

The three listened in stunned silence as Dumbledore explained his suspicions in greater detail, their expressions of incredulity turning to looks of quiet determination...

**XXXXX**

Dilys Derwent shifted in her frame and tried her best not to look bored. It wasn't an easy task, by any means. People expected model behavior from her around the clock. That meant no yawning, no singing songs, no telling jokes, and _no_ making funny faces at the children... After that one incident, the welcome witch had moved her from the main hall in the admitting area to just around the corner, where she had a perfect view of the entrance to the men's room.

Life was certainly different as a portrait. However, as different as it was from her past life, she still had her set of duties and obligations... and at the moment, the task she had been given was a very serious one.

She remembered the solemn look on Albus' face when he had given her the assignment. Although he had spoken to her politely, Dilys had been able to tell by his slight hesitation in forming words and his initial reluctance in speaking to her (he had come to her last, of all the portraits hanging in his office), that he didn't want to hear back from her. And he had good reason not to – her other portrait resided in the admitting area at St. Mungo's. It was rare that the news she brought back was ever really _wanted_, even if it had been asked for.

She stretched her arms out and peered over into the next frame, hoping she could go tell a joke to Dai Llewelyn, but all she could see was his familiar Quidditch pitch.

'_Why doesn't anything interesting ever happen around here?_' she thought to herself.

Suddenly like a gunshot, all the noise in the entire world simply stopped. She turned her head from side to side, searching for the distraction and there was a thundering pounding in her head; she realized it was the sound of her own heart beating. A delicious shiver trickled down her spine, sweat began to form on her palms... And then the pristine silence was broken, a single shout shattering it as if it were nothing more than a fragile windowpane.

"Someone get a Healer, _now!_"

Over to the left of her frame, Dilys heard the call repeated. Although the sounds of racing footsteps and hushed whispers now reached her ears, she could not remember a time in her two hundred years of residency when the hospital had been this quiet before.

The footsteps drew nearer and she caught a glimpse of the brightly colored robe of a Healer go rushing past her portrait. Her curiosity piqued, she hastened to follow, not caring if she disturbed any of the other pictures along the way. As she came closer to the main entrance, she could see a cluster of witches and wizards all circled around something. The Healer shot sparks at the ceiling and the crowd dispersed to let her through.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dilys saw Dai Llewelyn approaching on his broom.

"What's going on?" he whispered.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I heard a shout and I rushed over here." Dilys rubbed her chin, observing the assembled witches and wizards with a slight frown. Why was everyone showing such an uncommon interest in this particular patient? Usually nobody except Healers paid any attention to emergency walk-ins. "Hey, you there," she called out, wishing she could grab the person's shoulder instead. "Hey!"

An old man with crows feet around his eyes turned around and shot her a derisive look. "Wot is it?"

"What's going on?" she hissed.

"Wot's going on, she asks!" The wizard rolled his eyes. "We're all scared out of our bloody minds, that's wot's going on!"

She exchanged a glance with Dai, who shrugged helplessly. "But what do you _mean?_"

He lowered his voice and leaned in closer to her. "I haven't seen him meself yet, but I've heard whispers sayin' that it's _Harry Potter_ in there, all bloodied up and whatnot."

"Harry Potter?" she said to herself, feeling light in the head.

"Look!" Dai's voice cut through her thoughts and she focused on the scene before her. Slowly, the crowd fell back farther from the center and she could finally see what was going on.

With a determined look on her face, the Healer issued orders to three mediwizards Dilys hadn't noticed before, and she levitated a motionless body into the air.

"Blimey!" she heard the old man say. "They really were tellin' the truth!"

"Oh my god," Dai muttered. "It's him! The Potter boy!"

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "He's... he's..."

There was not a single word she could decide upon. Fragile, weak, thin... _defeated_. And there was blood, too – it was all over his face and his torn robes... what had happened to him to put him in such a state? As he hovered in the air beside the Healer, his arms fell from his sides and dangled from his body; his wand slipped from his fingers and started to roll away until a mediwizard reverently scooped it up and tucked it back inside his robes.

"Let's go!"

The entire entourage moved swiftly out of the main hall, body of the Boy-Who-Lived in tow.

"He's not dead." Dai looked her in the eye and neither of them added _yet_. "I'm going after him!"

Dilys felt the light breeze as he glided away on his broom. While the urge to follow Harry entered her mind as well, she knew she had a duty to carry out, and so she turned on her heel and began the long journey to her other portrait.

**A/N 2/7/07:**

What did you think? Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated. ;)


	4. Chapter 3: Calm

Chapter Three - Calm

There was a dining hall with lavish decorations all around; paintings, portraits, and suits of armor could be seen around the edges of the room and hovering overhead was an exquisite diamond chandelier. The table in the center of the hall was covered by a dark red silk cloth, which matched the cushions of the chairs and gave the entire space a somber, chilly feel. Ron shuddered as he crept in – no matter how much he disliked being in the room, he forced himself to stop by once or twice a day, because this was the only place in the entire castle where he could find food or drink.

As quickly as possible, he grabbed a plate laden with bread and vegetables and fled. At least he was eating healthily, even if he wasn't eating very much these days.

He'd lost count of how long he'd been imprisoned at World's End. By now, he'd given up hope of escaping the castle, because on one rare day when the mist outside had subsided, he'd looked out and seen a vast expanse of _nothingness_. Contrary to what he'd believed before, the castle wasn't floating in midair. In fact, it didn't seem like the castle was situated anywhere; when he had gazed out he hadn't seen any plains, hills, woods, lakes, or mountains – hell, he hadn't even seen the sky! Instead of mist, there had been a dull, grayish light all around.

It was beyond words for him to fully describe what he had seen, and he wasn't smart enough to try and figure out what it could have been, so he simply accepted the fact that this castle really was at the end of the world.

With that idea permeating his thoughts over the last few days (weeks?), Ron had sought out a way to keep himself entertained – stalking around the never-changing halls of the castle was interesting for only so long, after all. In his searches, he'd found a library on one floor, and, surprising even himself, it was now his favorite place at World's End.

He set his plate down at a table in the library and looked down at the books he'd left there the night before. In the pile was _The Art of Transfiguration_, by Arxes Arcania, _Portkeys_, by Pilaboro Porter, and _1001 Spells, Charms, and Hexes_, by Filbert Drooblesbury. Ron frowned...there was one missing.

_'Looking for something?'_

The Speaker was back. He didn't bother to look around – he knew that if the Speaker wanted to be seen, he would have appeared directly in front of him.

"Where's my book?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

_'Your book? Since when did you become proprietor of World's End, boy?'_

"All right, then," he said, sighing. "Keep it. I don't really mind."

_'No, no, if you want to read it, then I'll let you have it back.'_

"But it's your book," Ron pointed out, beginning to smile.

Suddenly something struck the back of his head and he cried out. Without turning around, he knew that it was the book they'd been arguing about.

_'Don't think for even a minute that you are beyond my control. You are in my castle, under my guard. You are my prisoner and I am your captor. Do not presume that you have any sort of power over me...I AM IN CONTROL!'_

The Speaker's voice still echoing in his ears, a sudden whirlwind swept into the library, wrenching books off their shelves and tearing pages out of them. Ron ducked under the table to avoid being hit again and he watched in fear and awe as the library was summarily leveled before his eyes. Shelves toppled over and crashed into furniture and Ron desperately hoped that nothing would crush the table he was hiding under.

Then, just as quickly as it had began, the storm stopped.

He crawled out and surveyed the wreckage: thousands of books were lying everywhere amidst shreds and scraps of yellowed parchment. Tables and chairs were strewn about the room in jagged pieces. Ron noticed that some of the inhabitants of the portraits were now peeking over their frames; some were whispering to each other while some of the more evil ones were pointing and laughing.

He tried to replay the conversation in his head, trying to figure out just what had set off the Speaker to do such a thing. The rash tantrum had seemed so..._childish_. Who, exactly, was he dealing with?

"Hello?" he called out cautiously.

There was no reply.

* * *

It was quiet at the Burrow. News about Harry's arrival and state of health had darkened the atmosphere around the house considerably. What made matters even worse was that Ginny and Hermione had not been allowed to go see him, and it was only a small consolation that nobody else in the house had seen him either. 

Since they'd only received word of Harry the night before, Hermione was still optimistic that they would be allowed to see him. "It'll only be a few days in hospital for him," she said, glancing over at Ginny.

"I hope so," she replied, kicking at a stray rock along the path.

"You really miss him, don't you?"

Ginny kicked at another rock and sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't, Hermione. This...this whole mess is stressing me out."

"It'll all be okay," Hermione assured her, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"I hope you're right."

They continued on without saying anything for a few minutes. As they came nearer to the house, Ginny caught a glimpse of Gérard walking around the yard, tracing senseless lines in the air with his wand. Once they were within a few feet of the wizard, he blinked and focused on the two girls, as if noticing them for the first time.

"Mademoiselles," he said, inclining his head.

"Monsieur Gérard."

Hermione elbowed Ginny in the ribs and she sheepishly smiled and muttered, "Hello."

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione, appearing keenly interested in him.

He raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised at the question. "I'm fortifying ze concealment charms around ze Burrow." Gérard lifted his wand in the air and made some quick, precise motions with it. An instant later, an intricate pattern of fire and light shimmered into existence in front of the three of them. He pointed at a glowing, bold line that stretched and curved from each end of the image. "Zat is your main magical barrier. As you can see, it's very strong. Ze Death Eaters could be standing only meters off of ze property and blasting curses our way yet zey would not scratch us." With a rare smile, he turned to Ginny and said, "You can give my regards to your brother William for that."

Hermione squinted and leaned in closer to study the pattern. "Are all of these different lines the different protections on the house?"

"_Oui_. Each one is a different spell." He gestured with his finger and added, "Zer are so many protections, as you can see. Yet I noticed zat aside from a single Unplottable Charm, zer were no other concealing protections. What good are strong walls if ze Death Eaters know where you are? It is only a matter of time before zey crumble or someone infiltrates zem..."

"Oi, and just what do you think you're doing?" barked a familiar voice. They all looked over to see Moody stalking over from the house. He glared at the hovering defense pattern, and with a casual wave of his wand, it disappeared. Moody directed a scowl at Gérard and said, "Exposing our secrets now, are you?"

"I was merely telling Mademoiselle Granger about ze importance of proper concealment charms." He fixed a level stare at Moody, not flinching at all. "Perhaps I should tell you, as well? I don't believe _you_ contributed to ze defense."

"Death Eaters couldn't come within ten miles without me knowing about it!"

"And yet, _somehow_, Harry Potter and Monsieur Weasley were taken away from right under your nose -"

"Excuse us," interrupted Ginny, smiling sweetly at the two men. "I think I heard mum calling."

Without delay, she grabbed Hermione by the arm and walked away, glad to be away from the two stuffy old men.

"I was interested in what Monsieur Gérard was saying!" she complained, giving her friend an irritable glance.

"Well I _wasn't_ interested in watching those two old coots going at it like an old married couple. Come on, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, but allowed herself to be led back into the house. As they entered, they ran right into Remus.

"I was just going to come looking for you two," he said. "We're going to St. Mungo's!"

"To see Harry?" asked Ginny, feeling a surge of hope.

"Exactly." He nodded and led them to the fireplace, taking a pinch of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantle. "Your mother's already left, and I'm pretty sure that a _few_ people will be there..."

"Let's go," she declared, and without a second's hesitation, she threw some powder into the fire and was gone.

* * *

When Remus had said that a few people would be at St. Mungo's to see Harry, Ginny hadn't anticipated the crowd of dozens of reporters, journalists, and well-wishers that would be there. As she stepped out of the hearth into the main Floo entrance lobby of the hospital, she was taken aback by the teeming mass of people milling about. There were young people, old people and families all camping out in the lobby, much to the dismay of the embattled orderlies who were futilely trying to get them to leave. Above all else, she was surprised by the hopeful, unified feeling in the air – while the atmosphere in the room was hardly electric or lively, it also wasn't unfriendly in the slightest. 

Remus and Hermione suddenly appeared by her sides and they paused too, looking at the unexpected assembly.

"Wow," was all Ginny could say.

"Follow me," said Remus, pushing his way kindly but firmly past the crowd.

At last they reached open space and they could all breathe again. Standing in front of them by the elevator was Albus Dumbledore. Absent was his usual smile and cheerful demeanor. He greeted the three of them in a grave voice and then he glanced at Hermione, fixing her with an odd stare.

"Harry wanted to speak with you, Miss Granger."

"Me?" she wondered, her voice sounding a bit higher pitched than usual.

Dumbledore inclined his head and gestured to the elevator. "I'll take you up to see him -"

"What about us?" Ginny questioned.

Remus didn't say anything, but he looked expectantly at the headmaster, silently asking the same question as she.

He frowned and shook his head. "Harry is still feeling quite fragile right now and the Healers will only let him see one visitor."

"Oh, so _one visitor_ means you and Hermione, then?" she shot back, beginning to scowl.

"Miss Weasley, I have not and will not be allowed to see Harry either. He requested Hermione specifically."

Everyone was now trying very hard not to stare at Hermione. In a tiny voice she said, "Let's go see Harry."

"Very well," replied Dumbledore. He spun on his heel and entered the elevator with Hermione.

A moment later, the doors slid shut and Remus and Ginny were left standing side by side, neither of them quite sure about what was going on. They wandered over to a snack area which had become an impromptu waiting area, occupied by everyone else who had shown up to visit Harry but had been turned away. Ginny separated herself from Remus and sat down next to Fred, George, and her mother.

"Where's Hermione?" one of the twins asked her.

"Seeing Harry," she supplied, unable to keep an edge of bitterness out of her words.

"Jealous, are we now?" ribbed George, trying to lighten her mood.

"Don't worry, dear, no one _else_ is allowed to see him either," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, gesturing at the assorted Order members who were present. "The Healers were very adamant about letting anyone near him."

Ginny sighed and grumbled, "I know, but it's still..._disappointing_."

"Cheer up, Gin." Fred put an arm around her shoulder. "Maybe they'll let us send him a toilet seat."

When they reached the fourth floor, Hermione stepped out of the elevator. She turned around and gave Dumbledore a quizzical glance.

"I'm afraid I can go no further, Miss Granger. I believe you will find Mr. Potter with ease."

Before she could think of anything to say, the shiny silver doors had closed and she was left staring at her reflection. She carefully composed herself in front of the faux mirror, wondering what they would be talking about and wondering why he had taken so long to return...

* * *

**3/23/07:**

Score! Exactly 2142 words in this chapter, with the exception of this Author's Note.

I apologize for taking so long to get this published, and I suppose I should let the two people in the universe (one of them is me) who are reading this story that there will be another update soon. I don't imagine IDSL being too much longer and I think I'll be able to wrap everything up in under ten chapters. In with the outro and old with the old, right?

_Fun fact: _ I originally wanted the Speaker to shout "THIS IS SPAAAAARTAAA!!!!!" when he encountered Ron, but I didn't think it would have fit the story properly.


	5. Chapter 4: Revealed

Chapter 4 – Revealed

"Do you need help, miss?"

Hermione peered at the mediwizard and nodded. "I'm here to see Harry. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Granger?" He gestured for her to follow him. "We've been expecting you. Right this way."

She was led into a spacious white room with a window enchanted to show the streets of Muggle London outside. Fake sunlight provided more than enough illumination and cast a golden tinge on the sheets and the walls. Everything seemed quite ordinary until she caught a glimpse of the person lying in the bed...

Hermione gasped when she saw Harry – even though he was awake and aware, she hadn't expected to see him looking so battered and bruised.

"Hello, Hermione," he said. Then he turned his gaze to the mediwizard and gave him a pointed stare until he finally left them alone.

"Harry," she breathed, trying not to stare at all of the cuts and scrapes on his face. She shivered when she imagined the wounds he probably had all over the rest of his body. "How...what happened?"

"I was ambushed." He fixed his eyes intently on hers, but when he spoke, his voice came out sounding bored. "There were Death Eaters waiting here in London when I returned. I don't know how they found me, but they did. I tried to fight them...it was me against a dozen of them, Hermione."

"Are you all right?" she asked at length, already knowing the answer.

"Of course I'm all right," he replied derisively. He sighed and leaned his head back on the pillows. "I can't wait until I can get out of here and continue what we were doing."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Harry -"

"Do they know?"

"No, no, they don't." Hermione bit her lip and then she added, "They shouldn't."

"Either they do or they don't, Hermione."

"They don't," she answered, looking him dead in the eye.

"Good." He looked down at his palms. "We need to move quickly if we're going to do this right. I think Professor Dumbledore is suspicious. Hermione, I need you to act for me because I don't think I'll be allowed to leave anytime soon."

She reached out and held his hand, ready to take on whatever challenge he was about to give her. "What should I do?"

**oOoOo**

Ginny looked up and saw Hermione approaching. She was very curious to hear what Harry had said to her. "What did he say?"

Hermione pursed her lips and whispered, "I'll tell you later, okay?"

Just then, George glanced over at them, wearing a mischievous grin. "Sharing secrets we ought to hear about, Hermione?"

"Of course not," she replied, smiling back at him. "I was just telling Ginny some girl stuff."

"Girl stuff?" Fred had now entered the conversation and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, leave us alone, you two," Ginny chimed in, shoving at them playfully. "It's nothing you would find interesting."

"If you say so," quipped Fred as he walked away with his brother.

Ginny eyed Hermione curiously; the other girl sat right next to her, appearing as if absolutely nothing was out of place. She wondered, what could Harry have possibly said to her? Now she wasn't so concerned about Harry anymore since she knew that he'd returned safely...but what if he had told Hermione something about Ron? She _had_ to know. Anxiously, she peered over at her mum, wanting to ask her if they could leave. After all, the sooner they got back to the Burrow, the sooner Hermione could tell her whatever she had to tell her...

"Mum -" she tried to say, but she was interrupted by Hermione tapping on her shoulder.

"Ginny." From the way Hermione was looking at her, Ginny could tell that she knew how impatient she was to return home. She gave her a smile and said, "Hang in there, Ginny. We should stay here until Harry can see more visitors. It shouldn't be long."

Now Ginny felt guilty. Just a moment ago she'd wanted to leave St. Mungo's as soon as possible – but now she'd been reminded of the fact that they were here to offer Harry support, and it wouldn't help him any if they weren't there when he woke up.

Hermione patted her on the shoulder. "I'll be back, I want to send an owl to my parents."

"See you."

"Don't worry," she added with a wink. "You'll hear everything by tonight. Trust me."

Ginny nodded at her as she stood up and left the room. She sighed and sank down in her seat – it was actually going to be fairly boring now without Hermione to keep her company...

"Ginny?"

She was startled by Remus, who had caught her unaware. "Professor Lupin, I, er -"

"Remus," he insisted, shaking his head slightly. "I had a question for Hermione, but I can't find her. Do you know where she went?"

"She wanted to send an owl..."

"Remus!" Mad-eye Moody clomped up to him and muttered, "You have a moment?"

"I -"

"Mon_dieu!_ Where is your eye?" Out of nowhere, Gérard had appeared and he was staring at Moody with a shocked look on his face.

"It's been itchy," came Moody's gruff reply. True enough, the socket where his magical eye rested was occupied by a regular glass eye. Ginny thought he looked almost normal now.

"Prof- _Remus. _I can go find Hermione for you," she offered, anxious for a way to get out of the stuffy waiting room and the company of Moody and Gérard.

"That would be wonderful," he replied, patting her on the shoulder before turning his attention to Moody.

Ginny slipped out of the room unnoticed – the adults seemed to have been greatly interested by the arrival of Moody, and the younger ones like Fred and George were enough of a distraction in and of themselves for the rest of the people assembled. She wandered down the sterile white hallways, occasionally passing a mediwitch or mediwizard on their way to some important event. Nobody paid her any attention, and she continued to follow signs on the walls towards the owlery.

After only a few minutes of meandering through the building, she saw Hermione a little ways ahead of her, and she quickened her pace to catch up to her. However, she frowned when she saw her stride right past the owlery and continue down along the corridor.

"Where are you going?" she whispered to herself as she struggled to keep up with her friend. By now, Hermione was walking very quickly; if Ginny were to move any faster she would have to start jogging. She felt even more confused when she saw Hermione creep into a room, spin on her heel, and Disapparate.

Millions of questions were now racing through her mind, but the one question that she desperately wanted an answer to was, "_Why did Hermione lie to me?_"

**oOoOo**

She landed with an _oooph_ on the stone floor – for some reason Apparating into World's End always made her dizzy. Hermione rose to her feet and brushed herself off, _tsking_ in disapproval. There wasn't any time for her to waste – Harry had given her explicit orders and she was to carry them out as quickly as possible.

Ron wasn't developing as quickly as they would have liked him to be...so Harry had sent her here to World's End to speed up the process. If all went well, she and Harry wouldn't have to operate by themselves anymore – they would be able to rely on Ron to support them.

There was only one problem – Ginny had seen her Disapparate. She'd realized that the girl had been following her, but there hadn't been an easy way to shake her. Besides, once she'd walked past the Owlery, Ginny would have known something was up anyway.

Oh, how that complicated things so unnecessarily. Now _something_ would have to be done about poor Ginevra...

However, that was something that would have to be dealt with in the future. Now her focus was on Ron.

"Where could he be?" Hermione wondered quietly to herself.

World's End was a sizable castle, but it didn't even begin to compare to Hogwarts, and so Hermione began to prowl along the dark hallways in search of her red-haired friend.

**oOoOo**

Ron opened his eyes.

Someone was in the castle with him. He could sense it, he could feel it, and he just _knew_ that he was not alone. Spending weeks and weeks by himself, wandering the same paths over and over again, he'd established an extra sense for the castle. Maybe it was just a subtle change in the air, or maybe the faintest of sounds had reached his ears. Whatever it was didn't matter. There was someone else, an intruder, in the castle with him.

And to Ron, that meant one thing:

If someone was in the castle, that meant they knew the way out.

He swung his legs out of bed and stealthily crept out of his bed chambers, keeping alert for any out of place noises.

Nothing.

Yet just because he couldn't hear anything didn't mean that there wasn't anyone lurking around World's End...

_'I wish I had my wand with me...'_

Damn Harry for going mental and snapping his wand! His only means of attack and defense was gone, and he felt very uncomfortable searching for someone who would be armed with their wand. He paused, listening to the crawling silence around him.

Nothing, nothing, _there. _Wait...yes. There it was again.

Ron waited a moment longer before he allowed a smile to show on his face. He could hear someone breathing. Quietly, he snuck along as the sound grew louder. Closer and closer he came to the source, until finally he could make out a vague silhouette creeping past him.

The figure was shorter than he, with slender shoulders and a mane of long, wild hair. From the way the intruder was creeping by him, he could tell it was a woman. There was a certain lightness to her movement, a subtlety that most men lacked. He felt a little more confident now, because if he managed to get the wand away from her, he knew he'd be able to beat her in a match of muscle against muscle.

Then something made his breath catch in his throat, as he heard a familiar voice whisper, "_Where could he be?_"

Hermione? What was she doing here at World's End? Surely she'd come to rescue him!

He halted in his tracks. "Hermione?" he called out, feeling immensely relieved that she was here. "Hermione, that _is _you! I'm over here!"

She slowly turned around to face him, staring at him with an inscrutable expression on her face. He didn't care how she looked at him, though – it was just enough that a friendly face was at World's End. Since Hermione was here, that meant he was saved.

"Hermione, Hermione," he breathed, grinning happily. "I'm so glad you're here. We have to get out of here! Listen – Harry's gone barmy -"

"Has he, now?"

"Yes, please listen to me, Hermione!" he pushed on, throwing his arms around her. "Harry, Harry – he _attacked_ me and then -"

"Harry attacked you, you say?"

"Yes, yes, and -"

"I don't think I really care."

"Hermione, I – what?" Ron froze and his arms went stiff. "What did you just say?"

She smirked at him. "Ron, I'm sure you know where you are."

"This is World's End," he answered slowly, giving Hermione a suspicious look.

"You're right. But do you know what happens here, Ron?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"That's right," she said softly, looking into his eyes. "You wouldn't know. Harry said you weren't changing."

Ron backed away from Hermione. There was a funny sensation in his stomach and he felt his legs tensing up by themselves, getting him ready to run away from her. "I wouldn't..._what? _Changing? Hermione, are you all right?"

"Of course I am, Ron. _You're_ the one who's not all right."

They stared at each other a moment longer; Hermione wore a plain smile on her lips, but a dark glimmer in her eyes suggested something was amiss, and Ron looked back at her with a very serious expression.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Hermione reached for her wand, but Ron was ready. He grabbed her wand arm and forced it away from her body. With a fierce cry, she tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp but he held on tight, refusing to let her get the wand.

"Let go of me, Ron!" she demanded, still struggling against him.

"No!"

Without warning, Hermione raised a knee up into Ron's groin and he shouted out in surprise and discomfort before he toppled over onto the floor. Panting, Hermione drew her wand and aimed it at him, scowling slightly.

"You hurt my arm, Ron."

"Y-you kicked me! That really, _really_ hurt!"

"Hm. That's too bad. We're even, then," Hermione remarked in a tone of voice that plainly stated she didn't care at all. She prodded him in the side with her toe. "Come on, get up."

"What? Why?" he moaned. "Just do whatever you're going to do to me here and get it over with."

"Well, that's the thing, Ronald," she replied curtly, using a spell to levitate him horizontally. "I've got to bring you to a special room first."

"What special room? They're all the bloody same, Hermione! I've been here forever. I know this castle like the back of my hand!"

She chuckled and condescendingly patted his head. "It's a secret room. Don't worry. You'll see."

He glared at her as she purposefully let his head bump into the wall as they went around a corner. "Ow! Why are you acting so strange? What's gotten into you, Hermione?"

"What's gotten into me?" A bemused smile appeared on her face. "That's exactly it, isn't it?" Then before Ron could say anything else, Hermione rolled her eyes and announced, "We're here."

**oOoOo**

Ginny returned to the waiting room to discover that only her mother and the twins were still there. Empty seats were scattered all about, slightly askew, and there were drink bottles and other such things lying around that the St. Mungo's house elves hadn't gotten to yet.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, surveying the vacant room.

"Important Order business," Mrs. Weasley said. She stood up and walked up to her daughter. "We would have left too, but we didn't want to leave you behind."

"What about Harry?" Ginny wondered.

"The meeting had to happen right away. There was no time to wait for him to wake up."

She frowned. Something wasn't quite right and there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, like she was missing something important. "So we're leaving now?"

"Oy, where's Hermione?" inquired George.

"She...she...didn't she come back here?" Her mind raced furiously – it wouldn't do to tell them that she'd just seen Hermione Disapparate off to who-knew-where. "I think she said she wanted to talk to Remus," Ginny lied, crossing her toes together. "She probably left with him."

"Oh, did she?" There was no trace of suspicion at all in her mother's voice and Ginny relaxed a little. "Then we'd best be off right away."

**oOoOo**

"Oy, stop! Put me down!" He fidgeted uselessly as he hovered three feet above the floor. "Come on, stop, Hermione!"

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped. They were standing in front of the portrait of the dodgy-looking wizard, but at the moment he was nowhere to be seen. She squinted at the painting and tapped on the frame with her wand. "LeMay, where are you? LeMay!"

A sinister chuckling came from the painting yet it remained empty; the only thing either Ron or Hermione could see was the gray canvas background.

"LeMay? That's his name?" queried Ron.

Hermione ignored him. "LeMay, if you don't come out, I'll be sure to let _him_ know about your insolence."

"You wouldn't!" came the voice, sounding shocked.

"Oh, believe me, I _would_. And you know as well as I do that you don't want to upset him."

The wizard poked his head around the edge of the frame, giving her a wary glance. "What do you want, witch?"

"Open up," she said.

"Password?" he asked, grinning slyly.

Hermione glared at him, and Ron had to suppress a smile – the exchange between the two so far had been the high point of his stay at World's End. He was about to say something when he was cut off by a short series of hisses. Parseltongue! Alarmed, he looked around to see who had made the noise when he realized that it had been _Hermione_. But since when did she speak Parseltongue...?

"Aye, that's it," LeMay grumbled. His picture swung open almost reluctantly and Hermione climbed inside, bringing Ron along with her.

**oOoOo**

"I'm _what?_"

"Go up to your room," ordered Mrs. Weasley, giving her daughter a stern look before shutting the door and magically sealing it shut.

'_I'm too young?_' she mouthed, staring at the door. The silence taunted her, especially since she knew that there must have been a heated discussion going on in that room...and it was all happening without her.

With no other choice, she turned to climb up the stairs to go to her room.

She wasn't allowed to go see Harry, she wasn't allowed into the Order meeting, and Hermione was still missing...

What was going on? It seemed like everything was all connected, but she was missing that one all-important clue that would tie it all together so it would finally make sense.

Ginny paused outside her room, frowning and feeling uneasy. Wasn't there something she could do? Couldn't she help the Order in any way? They always underestimated her! _She_ had been to the Ministry last year with Harry and Ron and Hermione, which was more than half of the Order could boast, anyway.

"Ginny?"

She tilted her head to side, wondering if she'd imagined hearing the voice.

"Ginny?" There it was again. "Ginny, are you up there?"

"What is it?" she called down the stairs.

A slight hesitation, and then, "Could you come down for a moment?"

She narrowed her eyes, trying to attach the voice to a face. It wasn't accented, so it couldn't have been Moody or the Frenchman...and it was deeper than Remus' polite voice.

Slowly she set foot down one rickety step after another, feeling strangely apprehensive. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, she came face to face with a solemn-faced Kingsley Shacklebolt. Standing by his side were Moody, Remus, and Gérard.

"Y-yes?" she squeaked out, embarrassed to hear a tremor in her voice.

"We have some questions for you," said Moody.

"Please, it won't take long," added Remus not unkindly, though he avoided eye contact with her.

"Sure," Ginny was all she could say as they led her into the kitchen.

**oOoOo**

They were in a pitch-black chamber, not unlike the room Harry had brought him to the first day of his imprisonment at World's End. He could feel Hermione by his side, a possessive hand resting on his forehead. Even though she was standing so close to him, he couldn't see her, since he was locked in a reclining position, floating a few feet off the ground – the only thing he had a decent view of was the ceiling, which looked black in the lightless room. Despite the fact that there wasn't any light to see by, he felt Hermione drift away from his side.

"Hermione?" he called out. "Hermione?"

"Relax, Ron. I'm right here." It sounded like she was standing in a corner, facing away from him.

A silence, thick and oppressive. Goosebumps began to rise on his arms and on his neck...

"Is there someone else here?" he asked.

_Yes, I am here._

The Speaker spoke without making a single sound – his words entered Ron's mind and his thoughts, authoritative and compelling. There was a certain quality to the Speaker that made it difficult to focus on anything else.

_You've been a tricky one._

Ron didn't know how to respond. Smart-mouthed comments just seemed too weak a weapon, so he kept quiet instead.

_I have the girl and the Boy-Who-Lived...but not you. Why you? Why have you managed to stay free?_

"I...I don't know," he replied truthfully. Ron had no idea what the Speaker was talking about.

_Interesting, indeed. I can see that you are not lying._

The Speaker was able to read his mind? Ron cringed; he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

_It is of no consequence. Your luck has run out. You are now mine._

"What are you talking about?" He nervously licked his lips. "Hello?"

He became aware of an emptiness in the chamber. Without realizing it, he'd shut his eyes while talking to the Speaker; now that he opened them, he was startled to discover that he was no longer in that room. Ron was further confused to notice that he was now standing on his own feet again – when had that happened? He took a cautious step forward, holding his arms out in front of him to check for obstacles.

Scratching his chin, he quickly took stock of his surroundings. While the secret room had been completely devoid of light, where he was standing now was filled with an overwhelming brightness; everywhere he looked there was blinding white light that wrapped around him in tendrils and tickled him from head to toe. Ron strained his eyes to see past the light, but it was no use – the whiteness was all he could see and all he could feel.

_Ronald..._

A voice, a word, a _thought_ flitted into his head the same way the Speaker talked to him, yet this time it came to him gently, compassionately. There was no edge of coldness or trace of condescension he could discern. Then Ron became aware of not just the words, but the _presence_ itself brushing up against his conscious, soft and seductive.

_Ronald..._

"What are you?" he murmured.

_Listen to me, Ronald. I am trying to make the world a better place. Would you like to help me?_

"Yes..." The presence in his mind was so soothing and reassuring...why had he been afraid of it before? He felt like he could just relax and trust it...

_Good. In order to help me, you might be asked to do things that you disagree with, but you _have_ to obey me if you want the world to be a better place._

"A better place," Ron echoed.

_A better place, indeed. First, you must let your guard down and let me in..._

"No...can't."

_Ronald, I won't be able to help you if you keep resisting. You can trust me, I won't hurt you. Trust me._

"Trust..."

He was suddenly aware of exactly _where_ in his head the presence was. It was drifting in and through his mind, but it wasn't able to penetrate through to the center, and like an angry insect it kept zipping about, creating an irritating buzz in his ear. Ron didn't know why, but he knew that it absolutely wouldn't do to let the bug inside, so he scrounged up what remained of his will and concentrated on keeping it out.

_What are you doing? Ronald, stop this right now._

He smiled when he sensed the annoyance in the Speaker's voice and he focused harder on strengthening his mental barriers.

_You are being insolent, Ronald. Don't you want to make the world a better place?_

The pressure around his head increased and his smile turned to a frown. The buzzing sound was becoming louder and he felt a migraine beginning to form... Still, he held fast and refused to give in.

_Stop, Ronald! Why are you resisting?_

An invisible chill swept through his body, and he shivered involuntarily. The Speaker was getting angry...and Ron could feel it. He was now gritting his teeth together and his hands were clenched into fists. A stray droplet of sweat trickled down his temple.

"I won't...let...you...in," he managed to spit out.

_Why won't you give up?! LET ME IN!_

Without warning, the Speaker loosed an anguished cry that ripped through Ron's entire being, demolishing his mental wall and shattering the thoughts trying to form in his mind. He screamed out in pain; the sensation was overwhelming and he lost his footing. The discomfiting feeling of falling over backwards was the last thing he felt before he passed out.

**oOoOo**

"Do you know where Hermione went?" demanded Gérard, not bothering to be as polite as the others.

"No! I-I don't have any idea where she went!"

"You're lying!"

"That's _enough_, Gérard," snapped Shacklebolt, giving him an annoyed look. "This isn't an interrogation."

"Ginny," said Remus in a gentle voice. "Hermione didn't tell you where she was going?"

"No," she answered, still feeling the blood pumping through her veins. "She told me she was going to the owlery to send a letter to her parents about Harry."

"But that's not where she went," pointed out Moody.

"I- wait." Ginny glanced at them, confusion on her face. "How did you know that?"

"Um." Remus touched her shoulder and she looked up to see he was wearing a guilty expression.

"What...?"

She saw that he was holding something in his hand. He took his wand out and murmured, "_Engorgio_."

Ginny watched in amazement as Moody's magical eye grew in his palm until it was back to its usual size.

"I'll take that," said Moody, swiftly replacing his glass eye for the magical one.

"That was onmy _shoulder?_" she asked, shocked.

"Simple sticking charm," replied Remus, looking at his feet.

"Alastor saw Granger Disapparate in a room off to the side." In a dry voice, Shacklebolt added, "I don't think she simply wanted to Apparate to the owlery here."

"No, I don't suppose she did," Ginny returned softly.

"So you have no clue where she could be?" prodded Moody.

Ginny shook her head.

The four men exchanged brief glances. Remus sighed and shook his head while Shacklebolt tilted his chin up and announced, "Well, now...it appears that Miss Granger is the spy we've been looking for."

**Author's Note:**

Haha, um...yeah. Sorry about the excessive lateness in getting this posted. I can't believe it's almost been a month! And I can't believe that when I started writing this story I was working full time...and now I'm a jobless student once more, fretting over tests, papers, and the imminent final exams for this semester.

So...gasp! Shock! Hermione Granger? A _spy?_ Who'd've thunk it?

I'm not quite sure when I'll get the next chapter out. As soon as classes are over, it's back to working for me (though hopefully _not_ full time over my summer break...but...grrrrrr) and from now until the end of classes, I will be very busy with aforementioned tests, papers, and finals.

I've also discovered this disgusting time waster called "the internet" in which you can check your email, play games, watch videos, and do all sorts of interesting things, so...

On a more serious note, whatever my summer holds for me, I promise that I will finish writing this story. I hate to see abandoned fics out there, so I'm definitely going to see this through to the end.

_VacantSkies_

_Ryan_

_4/19/07_


	6. Chapter 5: Betrayal

Chapter Five - Betrayal

Ron blinked once – twice – and tried to see through the annoying blur in his eyes.

Where was he? What just happened?

_'Oh, that's right...'_

He was curled up on the floor in the secret room and he was acutely aware that every single muscle and joint in his body was aching. Worse than all of that, however, was the throbbing in his head. The pain was worse than any other headache he'd ever had and when he tried to stand, he staggered before regaining his balance.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh," he moaned, reaching up to rub his temple. "Why..."

Something nagged at him, like he should have been doing something important, but all he wanted to do was find a bed and sleep for the next few weeks – however long it took for him to feel better. He stumbled over to the oak wood door and pushed. It didn't open.

"No," he breathed, pushing it with more force.

"You can't leave yet, Ronald."

He twisted his neck around to see Hermione standing in the corner. She was staring at him with an intense fire in her eyes that he'd seen her use only when studying something very intriguing. When she spoke next, he was surprised to hear a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"What just happened?"

Her wand was aimed directly at him, very business-like, but he knew she wouldn't do anything to him. At least nothing seriously life-threatening. Besides, he could tell that she was more curious than vengeful simply by hearing her speak.

"Wh...what do you mean, _'what just happened'_?" He groaned and slumped down on the floor. "You tell me."

"You were standing still and then you passed out."

"Oh. Um -"

"For your information, Ron, that _wasn't_ supposed to happen."

"Ah..."

She stalked over to him, grabbed him by the collar, and placed the tip of her wand on his Adam's apple. "I need to know. So tell me."

"Tell you what?" he shot back. "I already told you what happened!"

"Not that," she countered, shaking her head. Hermione squinted, staring into his eyes. After a moment of deliberation, she muttered, "Damn it. _Damn _it!"

Abruptly, she let go of him and began pacing furiously around the room. Ron blinked again. He began to wonder why Hermione was acting so strangely – or at least _more_ strangely than she had been when she'd attacked him – but his skull was still pulsing and thoughts came to him painfully and slowly.

"H-Hermione?" he ventured, taking a step closer to her.

"_What?!_" she snarled, jabbing her wand at him.

Ron backed away, hands in the air. "I just wanted to ask you if you're all right. You're looking a bit peaky."

"Don't make me hex you."

"Fine." Ron walked over to the door, intent on leaving, but it was still locked. "Can you let me out?"

He glanced over at her and saw her lips were parted, as if she had been about to say, "_No, of course not,_" but instead she remained silent, watching him. If Ron's head wasn't spinning so wildly, he might have been able to hear the gears spinning in Hermione's.

Her face lit up and she waved her wand at the door. A latch clicked and it creaked open a few inches.

"You know what, Ron?" She smiled slyly. "Why don't you leave now?"

He stared back at her, wondering if he'd heard her right.

"Go on," she urged, pushing him towards the door.

"B-but how do I leave?"

Hermione _tsked_, more at herself than at Ron. How could she have forgotten he didn't have a way to leave World's End? Her gaze traveled around the room and settled on a silver goblet on a shelf. She summoned it over to her and then murmured, "_Portus_."

Ignoring the gasp of disbelief coming from Ron, she hastily pressed it into his hands and gave him a good shove out of the secret room. He looked at her questioningly.

"It'll activate on its own in only a few seconds," she said.

"But -"

With a flash of light and a magical gust of wind, Ron disappeared before he could ask his question.

Hermione sighed and anxiously tapped her foot on the ground.

"Harry's not going to be very happy when he finds out I've just released Ron," she whispered to herself. "And he's going to be downright _angry_ when he finds out that _he's_ gone missing..."

She continued to pace around the bland room, her brain running at full speed. The Speaker had been supposed to convert Ron into one of them, but for some reason the process had failed and Ron was still Ron. Worse than that, though, was the fact that Ron had managed to _fight_ the Speaker...and now the Speaker was gone. It was a frightening prospect to know that an entity as powerful as the Speaker was missing, banished, or even dead, but it wasn't nearly as frightening as what Harry would do when he heard the news that his plan was falling to pieces.

Hermione chewed on her lip. Ron's Portkey had brought him to a part of Muggle London, which was something he'd have discovered by now, no doubt. Maybe he was already on his way to the Leaky Cauldron, and from there he could Floo back to the Burrow... She figured that he'd be back to the rest of the Weasleys and the Order in no more than an hour.

So she had an hour to come up with a plan to save herself from the Order...and from Harry.

But no, that wasn't right either.

_'The Order probably already knows I'm up to something. After all, Ginny saw me Disapparate from St. Mungo's...'_

Hermione cursed, wishing she knew what time it was.

"Okay," she said out loud, breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. It was time to think about things logically. "The Order knows about me. If the Order knows my secret, then _Harry_ knows that they know. But..."

She trailed off. It was all so confusing, and yet...she could feel that she was close to coming up with a brilliant plan, but _what was it?_

The distinct crack of Apparation sounded in the distance, echoing along the halls until it reached Hermione's ears. She gulped and drew her wand.

She wasn't going down without a fight.

**OoOoO**

"Hermione? A _spy?_" Ginny blurted out. The disbelief was apparent in her voice and in the way she was now gawking at the four wizards standing in front of her.

Remus cleared his throat. "There's no other answer...she fits the role. If you'll pardon me saying this, but Hermione's the only one of you clever enough to know how to create a Portkey."

"And you knew this how?"

"The first night the boys went missing," said Moody, scowling. "There was no way that Harry and Ron could have been magicked past my watch unless it was by Portkey. Miss Granger must have sneaked into their room and Portkey'd them both away, one by one. Harry must have been first...and then your brother must have realized what was going on and tried to stop her."

"Which would explain why we found his broken wand," added Ginny reluctantly, not wanting to believe this new information.

"Precisely," remarked Remus.

"B...but it just _can't_ be Hermione..."

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but all of the evidence points to her."

Sensing that she wanted to be left alone, the four wizards walked away and left her standing at the foot of the stairs, feeling very lost and alone. She looked up and saw the kitchen door up ahead was open; beyond she could see it was full of Order members. The meeting hadn't begun yet, judging by the din of conversation. Ginny crept up and paused just before the threshold.

_'I don't care if I'm too young,' _she thought bitterly to herself. _'I'm certainly old enough to find out that my best friend is a Death Eater.'_

Across the room, she saw her mother sitting next to the twins. They made eye contact, and in that instant an understanding passed between the two Weasley women. Mrs. Weasley beckoned to Ginny and she hurried over.

It was just in time as well, since Albus Dumbledore stood up at the head of the table, gesturing for silence.

"I am glad to see that all of you were able to make it here on such short notice," he began, a satisfied expression on his face. "I'm sure many of you are already aware of what I am about to say, but for those of you who haven't heard yet..." He sighed and Ginny thought she saw his shoulders slump a bare fraction of an inch. "We've found our spy. It is Hermione Granger."

Ginny's eyes found Remus, whose face was set into a grim look of determination. Next to him, Shacklebolt was nodding, Moody was still scowling, and Gérard sat in his seat peering intently at Dumbledore. A quick look around the table told her that many of those in the Order appeared shocked, but there were even more witches and wizards who bore expressions of disgust and anger. The betrayal at Grimmauld Place was still fresh in the minds of all who were assembled. A second traitor was absolutely intolerable.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The Order would be out for blood this time.

Shacklebolt stood at the behest of Dumbledore, and the attention in the room shifted to the intense Auror.

"By means which I do not wish to disclose at this time, I have been able to track Miss Granger's movement for the last few weeks."

Ginny frowned._ 'He suspected her from the start of his investigation? And how did he track her?'_

She listened closely as he continued.

"Every few days, Miss Granger was able to drop completely out of sight of my surveillance, and up until recently, I was unable to determine her whereabouts at these times. But now, with the help of a new informant..."

Shacklebolt stepped aside to reveal Ron, who rose to his feet, flashed everybody a weak grin, and then sat back down again.

Ginny gasped; beside her Mrs. Weasley cried out, and the twins jumped up in their seats and began whispering animatedly between one another.

"I've assembled a team," Shacklebolt went on. "We will be heading to Ron's place of imprisonment, a place known as World's End, in search of Miss Granger. That is all."

The rest of the meeting sped by in the blink of an eye, and soon enough, the Weasleys were reunited with Ron.

"Ron! I'm so...so _relieved_..."

"I was worried sick for days..."

"We had a bet that you'd come back with a missing eye like Moody..."

"...and now you owe us three Sickles, Ron."

The twins slapped him on the back as Mrs. Weasley enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Ginny smiled. He was finally back! _Both_ of them were, both Harry and Ron! She should have been ecstatic, she should have been jumping up and down, overjoyed by their return...

But she wasn't.

The betrayal of Hermione loomed over her and prevented her from celebrating as fully as she wanted to.

The two of them had shared a room for the last few weeks, spent hours together wondering when Ron was going to come back...and now to discover that it had all been a _lie_...

It was all too much to take in at once, and she began to weep; she cried out with both joy and sorrow. In the commotion of the dispersing meeting and her elated family members, no one noticed her brush the tears away from her eyes.

**OoOoO**

"Is everybody ready?"

When it remained silent, Shacklebolt nodded and produced an old hat.

"A Portkey?" asked Gérard.

"Albus," replied Moody.

"Ah, _oui_, but where is it going to take us?"

"Ron showed up with a used Portkey. Albus took it and was able to figure out where it came from – don't ask me how – and now we're going to be on our way. Please," Shacklebolt pointed to the hat. "Everybody hold on tight and keep your wands ready. We don't know what's going to be waiting for us on the other side."

Nobody else spoke up.

"Right, then. On three. One...two..._three!_"

**OoOoO**

Dozens of mediwizards and mediwitches hustled along the ever-busy hallways of St. Mungo's, but there was a nervous feeling in the air that was unusual. Dilys walked from frame to frame, watching them curiously. Confused, she turned to ask the occupant of the current frame she was in – a knight in armor – what was going on.

"E-excuse me...sir?"

"Sir _Corwin_," the knight replied courteously. "How may I be of service, milady?"

"Could you tell me what's got all of them -" she nodded her head out at the bustling hallway "- riled up? I've been wandering around for twenty minutes and I still have no clue what they're all going on about."

"Ah!" Sir Corwin gasped. He leaned in closer to Dilys and asked in a whisper, "No one has told you yet?"

She shook her head.

"It's the Potter boy," he explained.

"Has his condition worsened?" Dilys questioned, feeling worry rising in her chest.

"No, milady. He's gone _missing_."

**OoOoO**

Hermione hurried from room to room, searching for a good place for an ambush, but Ron's earlier words came back to her and she heard him saying, "_They're all the bloody same, Hermione!_"

The Order would be here in minutes. She had only that much time to act.

It wouldn't be possible for her to make another Portkey in such a short amount of time – she'd spent too much of her energy on the first one and she could feel the fatigue spreading in her limbs as she sprinted down the long corridors of World's End. Ditto for Disapparating...she didn't feel like Splinching herself trying to make her getaway. Hermione was left with only one option, and that was to hide or fight. Since there were no decent hiding spots at World's End (the secret room wouldn't keep out a determined wizard with a wand), her only option was to fight.

She ducked inside a bedroom and pressed herself as close to the wall as she could. Maybe if someone was careless they would walk right by her...

Her heartbeat quickened as she heard footsteps. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the sound, trying to pinpoint the relative direction her opponent was coming from...

"Wait...only _one_ person...?" she muttered to herself.

Cautiously, she poked her head around the corner, expecting to see Albus Dumbledore himself striding toward her, his brilliant violet robes flowing behind him like water. Instead, she saw someone far more intimidating than he.

Harry Potter smiled as he saw Hermione staring at him in fear.

"Hello, Hermione," he drawled. "Fancy seeing you here."

"H-Harry...I...I..."

He pointed his wand at her. "Enough of that, now. _Stupefy._"

**Author's Note:**

Another chapter finished! Good? Bad? Reviews are appreciated :)

On an unrelated note, you can surely imagine my complete and abject horror at discovering that the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie is entitled "Pirates of the Caribbean: At _World's End_."

I swear I came up with World's End on my own...but since that movie is going to end up being much more popular than this story... Oh well.

_VacantSkies_

_Ryan_

_5/1/07_


	7. Chapter 6, Part I: Accident

Chapter Six, Part One - Accident

She tumbled to the floor, landing gracelessly like rag doll. Her wand slipped from her limp hand and began to roll away before it came to a stop underneath the sole of Harry's boot. With a muted sigh, he picked it up and fit it snugly into his pocket. He didn't relish the idea of Hermione getting her wand back so soon, without knowing why he had just stunned her. Harry turned a piteous eye on his unconscious friend and frowned, gazing sadly, almost longingly at her.

"I could have used you," he whispered to the empty room. "But I've had a change of plans, Hermione."

_Crack, crack, crack_.

His grip tightened on his wand as the faint _pops_ of Apparation reached him.

"The Order..." he hissed. He spared another glance at Hermione's prone form and sneered. "_Incompetent_."

Harry paused and strained his ears to listen, trying to figure out how many people were coming. After a moment he cursed to himself, shaking his head. He waved his wand at the door – it whipped shut and bolted itself.

"More than three of them, maybe four or five," he muttered, pacing slowly around the chamber. "Now...what am I going to do with _you?_"

Harry strode over to where Hermione was lying. He could hear the approaching footsteps clearly through the closed door. His time was running out! Quickly, he withdrew her wand, and, rolling his eyes, placed it back in her hand, furious with himself for not being able to think of a better plan than what he had just thought up.

"_Rennervate_," he breathed, glancing anxiously up at the doorway. Hermione groaned and sluggishly began to rise. "Come on, come on, come on," he said, taking her arm and lifting her to her feet, where she swayed unsteadily and he had to catch her. "Get yourself together, Hermione! They're coming!"

"Who – what..." she murmured groggily. Her wand dropped out of her open hand and Harry snatched it out of the air, pressing it back into her palm and enclosing her fingers around it. He had to throw his free arm around her and suddenly shift his weight to keep her from falling again.

"Be – more – careful – _dear_," he hastily spat at her, roughly reaching for her other hand, which was made difficult since they were in such close proximity and Harry's arms and other hand were tied up with holding her dead weight.

"H-Harry?" Hermione blinked once, twice. Then her eyes hardened as his face swam into focus before her. "You...you stunned me!"

The footsteps were increasing in volume and they were now accompanied by not-too-distant sounding voices, talking excitedly to one another.

"Yes, I know, Hermione," he replied evenly. Harry placed his wand into her other free hand, not letting go of it. "And I'm sorry, but you know, this plan, you and me, it's just not working out -"

"You and me?_ What_ you and me? Harry, you just _stunned _me!"

He met her eyes and gave her a smile, one of those carefree, innocent and disarming smiles that he used to share with his her and the rest of his friends when they were all younger and dumber and more innocent.

"I know. I apologized already."

She shot him a fierce look. "That's it? You think you just get to apologize once and everything is okay?"

Something clattered noisily in a remote hallway and they both froze in place for a second. Harry took advantage of the distraction; still holding onto her arm, he maneuvered himself until he was standing in front of her, with his back to her chest. Hermione struggled feebly to escape, but Harry was much too strong for her.

"_Stunning_ me isn't exactly something that I'll be able to forgive easily! Harry, stop. Listen to me. What are you _doing?_"

He turned his head and gave her a lopsided grin. "I'll apologize again after you're done being upset with me."

"Wha -"

But Hermione never finished asking him what it was that he had just been about to say when he muttered, "_Imperio!_" and the wand being held by both of them shot the Unforgivable Curse into her side and she went silent.

Harry relinquished his grip on the wand just as the door in front of them burst open. Specks of dust and faintly shimmering sparks of magical residue sprayed in the air, kicked up from whatever hex had been used to blast the door open, and in stepped Moody, Shacklebolt, Gérard, Remus, and Tonks.

"Hermione!" barked Moody. "Let him go!"

The five of them stood framed in the doorway and in the triangle of yellow light on the floor, armed and ready, with their wands unwavering and pointed straight at the girl in front of them.

Hermione held two wands – one hers and the other Harry's – the former she had aimed at the Order members and the latter was pressed up against Harry's neck.

"No," she stated, glaring at them.

"There are five of us and only one of you! Give it up, lassie!"

"_Relashio._"

Moody dodged out of the spell's way and he fired back at Hermione, missing in his haste and exploding a section of wall behind her. The blast shot out chunks of stone and mortar and dust, obscuring everyone's vision.

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Reducto!_"

The dust drifting over all of them lit up in parts like storm cloud as curses and hexes were fired blindly through the room. A scorching jet of heat sizzled through the air clear across the room, and someone cried out in pain.

"Find her, find her!"

"I can't see...!"

"Someone's down, someone's down!"

"_Meteoa_," chanted Remus, and the dust began to waft itself away, and they all could see again.

Hermione was gone. Tonks was just rising up from the floor, brushing off her robes; Gérard was wiping some blood off his face; and Remus, Moody, and Shacklebolt were standing where Hermione had been standing a mere moment ago – they were all staring down at the floor where Harry Potter was lying, unmoving.


	8. Chapter 6, Part II: Recovery?

Chapter Six, Part Two – Recovery?

"Damn the girl," muttered Gérard as he glimpsed his reflection on a mirror. There was a long gash down the left side of his face, from his temple to the bottom of his jaw.

"Been playing rough, have you?" the mirror whispered.

He growled and fell into step with the others. Remus and Tonks were hanging behind the rest; Shacklebolt and Moody kept silent, sharing occasional looks of disgust in between making sure that the unconscious floating body of Harry Potter didn't collide with anything along the way.

The only sound in the long hallway was the soft click of their heels on the stone and the faint _wisping_ of their robes trailing them. Even though nobody said a word, everyone bore the same thought on their minds:

_Where is Hermione?_

oOoOo

At that moment in time, Hermione was just coming to her senses, trying to figure out the answer to that same question. The chamber – it couldn't be called a room, since it was far too large to be called such – sprawled on for what seemed to her like miles in each direction. From what she could determine, she was sitting in the middle of the chamber, on a dais where a trickle of brightness made her reach up to shield her eyes. Cautiously she crawled forward a bit and peered over the side of the platform and felt a jolt of vertigo sweep through her limbs. She couldn't see the floor, and she was unable to see the edges of the chamber either; rich, silky blackness blanketed the empty space between there and where she sat.

"Hello?"

There was no echo, no reverb, no bouncing multitudes of hellos that she had expected. Her voice, as far as she could tell, had left her lips at full volume and died less than inches away.

Her legs hurt. They were cramped. Her knees ached, her feet were asleep, and her thighs felt stiff and sore, as if she had been curled up on the cold floor for hours.

"Hello?" she tried again, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Where am I?! Somebody answer me!"

But yet again her voice collided with that invisible wall of silence and ended – from a scream to a whisper.

She sank to her knees – much to their protest – and pulled at her hair, letting out an anguished cry that she nor anyone else could hear.

oOoOo

"How is he?"

"I'm not sure, Professor."

Dumbledore frowned and tilted his head to the side for a better view of Harry. He gently touched the place where the boy's head had been patched up and he could feel the protuberance rising up under the white cloth.

"Nothing we've tried has gotten him to wake up. We think he's in a coma."

"A coma, you say?"

"Er, yes," continued Remus in a quiet voice. "Albus, if this is coma...if it was caused by dark magic -"

"I suppose the only thing we can do is let him rest," Dumbledore announced, turning around to face the many who had assembled at the Burrow to see Harry.

"So he's okay, then?"

All the heads in the room swiveled around to see Ginny standing in the doorway, an anxious tone in her voice.

"He just needs to rest," said Dumbledore, nodding gravely. "Let us hope that Harry will be able to make a full recovery soon, Miss Weasley."

oOoOo

She awoke...

Had she been sleeping...?

When had she fallen asleep...?

Why had she woken up...? What had woken her up...?

_Someone was screaming._

The sound of an anguished human voice, forceful and violent, invaded her ears, overflowing the rest of her senses, and she shut her eyes in pain. It sounded as though it was coming from a great distance, yet there was no echo to it – it was muted and she could hear it as clearly as she could hear her own thoughts. The screaming intensified, and as it did, it became clearer and Hermione could make out a masculine baritone... _Harry?_

No, it wasn't Harry – it was, it was... Someone, no, something, and she couldn't tell, she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, she could only _hear_ it – louder, stronger.

_Please just make it stop_. _Oh god, please just make it stop._

Someone was crying.

Belatedly, she realized it was her. She opened her eyes and with a gasp of surprise, wiped the tears away and felt more on her cheeks. The chamber was no longer screaming, yet she could still hear a high pitched ringing in her ears – but there was something else, something she could feel in her ear canal – _blood_. She stared at her darkened fingertip in horror; seeing the red was frightening by itself but knowing that it had come from her own body made the shock of it so much more profound. What had done this to her? What _could_ have done this to her?

Someone else was crying.

On the same channel as the scream had entered, Hermione could clearly hear the sound of someone weeping. Just like before there was no echo. When she focused on the voice she could not tell which direction it was coming from – though in a chamber as dark and as shapeless as the one she occupied she doubted it would have done much good to know anyway. She opened her mouth to call out but then she paused, biting her bottom lip.

Deciding to try a new tact, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the voice, trying to visualize the sound in forms and rhythm, trying to get a feel for its quality and timbre. It was difficult at first, because this was something that Hermione had never done before, and she was sure that the voice was actively eluding her as she took figurative shots in the dark at it. Every time she thought she could feel the voice, it slipped away, making her more and more curious to find it. Each sob taunted her, over and over, each as featureless as the last.

Finally, on the verge of giving up, she sighed and thought, "_Hello?_ _Is anybody there?_"

The keening finally came to an end and Hermione straightened her shoulders and listened very carefully to the silence in its wake, waiting for a reply. The emptiness carried on for a moment more, somehow heavier and more unsettling than the crying had been before, and Hermione wished for something, anything to fill the void...

And then...

_Hello, Hermione. I can see you._

The Speaker had returned.

**Author's Note, October 2, 2007:**

Once again, I apologize for the short length of these chapters. Schoolwork has been heavier than expected and I find myself short on time when I want to write. I also mentioned that my interest is waning a bit in this story, but rest assured, that will not stop me from completing this fic. I promise to complete this (especially when I'm so close to the end!), so no worries there.

The line: "...and ended – from a scream to a whisper..." is a paraphrase of one of my favorite song lyrics "And it ends from a scream to a whisper." If you can name the band and the song without looking it up, I'll give you a prize ;)

-Ryan

_VacantSkies_


	9. Chapter 6, Part III: The Speaker

Chapter Six, Part III – The Speaker

"What was that?"

"What was _what_?"

"That – right there, he just did it again."

Madam Pomfrey turned around, an inquisitive look on her face. Sure enough, Harry was smiling. This was certainly a curious development in his coma... As she drew closer to the bed to perform a quick check spell, his lips straightened back out and his expression became neutral once more.

"D'you know what it could mean?" asked Ron, who had stepped over to the other side of Harry's bed.

"No," she replied slowly, briefly touching her wand to Harry's forehead.

"Well it's got to be a good thing, doesn't it? Smiling?"

"I suppose. Let's not jump to any conclusions."

"I wonder what he could be thinking about," he murmured. Ron sighed and walked around the bed, nodding at Madam Pomfrey. "Oh well, I'm going to bed. Good night."

**OoOoO**

She inhaled, sharply.

She glanced around – she could see nothing.

And then:

_Why are you here, Hermione?_

His voice – the voice – it was everywhere and yet nowhere; she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

_What is he doing right now?_

"What? Who?"

_The Potter boy. Has he imprisoned you? Where is he? What is he doing right now? I must know._

Her head still throbbed and she felt the urge to cry again, but she fought against it, anxious to learn more from The Speaker instead.

"If you really must know, Harry has gone mad. He attacked me."

_I thought so. He has no use for you now. He has become too powerful. Your world will die at his hands._

"What? What's he going to do? I – I don't understand -"

_He has become too powerful. I shared with you both my power, yet he discovered what I did not, and he stole all that I had. Now he seeks to destroy the one who threatens your world, but he knows not the consequences._

"Consequences? What...? Are you talking about...V-Voldemort?" Hermione frowned, trying hard to make sense of the puzzle pieces she had been given. "Harry's been up against Voldemort for years now."

_Yes, but he merely sought to stop him before. Now he wishes to destroy him._

"Wouldn't that be good, then?"

_You are ignorant. The imbalance of power would rip your world apart until there would be nothing left. That is an undesirable outcome._

"How?"

_It would take too long for me to explain. Our action must be swift if we wish to stop him in time._

Hermione sat up, feeling the fuzziness clouding her thoughts beginning to relent. "What should we do?"

_There is nothing I can do. As I have said before, he has become too powerful and now his power and knowledge of the craft are far too dangerous. You must warn the other one and prepare him to stop this catastrophe._

"You want me to go to Voldemort?!" she shot back, feeling her heart skip a beat. "I have to warn him?!"

_Yes. The Potter boy will succeed in his mission if the present course continues. You must stop this from happening at all costs._

"I can't! I won't!"

_You must._

"Do you know who Voldemort is?" she argued. "He will _kill_ me. I won't be able to get close to him, and I don't want to! I won't!"

_You must. There is no other way._

"Why don't you go?"

_I am no human. I cannot leave this place._

"This place….?" Hermione paused and pursed her lips. "He's trapped us here, hasn't he? In World's End…. Oh, Harry...what have you done?"

_You must stop him; you are the only who can. I made a mistake – I showed him far too much power. If you choose to do nothing, your world will be destroyed. He is corrupt. The boy must be prevented from completing his task. You must stop him._

"But…but he's my friend."

_Is he? Is he really? He attacked you and imprisoned you here. He is no friend to you._

Her eyes narrowed as she hugged her knees. "Harry's my friend. We're working together."

_Not anymore. You must stop him._

"Well that's just bloody wonderful!" she snapped. "I can't escape, and no one else knows about him! The Order all think that he's the bloody savior of the world and they all think I'm a spy!"

_That is immaterial. If you undertake my mission you will be supporting Lord Voldemort anyway, and thus, in their eyes, you will be a spy. But you must stop the Potter boy at all costs. I will send you out now._

She blinked. "You...you can send me out? How?"

_That is not important right now and I don't have time to explain. The Potter boy has been weakened – for how long, I do not know – and I can help you to escape now. I will also give you the last of my power that I was able to hide from him. I do not have time to explain what you will be able to do with it, but suffice it to say that you will no longer need a wand to channel your magic._

"What – how -"

_There is not enough time to explain. Good bye and good luck, Hermione Granger._

**OoOoO**

Night had fallen upon the Burrow, finally bringing peace – or at least the semblance of it – to its inhabitants. Everybody had gone to bed hours ago, except for Ginny.

She treaded lightly down a familiar and worn path along the edge of the property, too preoccupied to be bothered with sleeping. Her fingertips trailed through the air alongside her, tracing lines in the magical barriers which shimmered for a moment before fading away into the darkness. The magic tingled as it brushed against her fingertips, and a smile touched her lips at the sensation.

Magic. So many blessings, so many curses.

For now, Harry Potter was lying in a bed in the Burrow, in a coma because of magic. No one was quite certain as to what had caused it, and as a result, no one was really absolutely certain as to how it could be cured. The only course of action that everyone agreed on was to wait and see what would happen. After all, nobody wanted to take any chances with the Boy-Who-Lived. Besides, Ginny was the last person who wanted to see Harry get hurt again. He had endured so much in the last few years...it just wasn't _fair_ for him.

She just wished that his problems would disappear so he could be happy forever, and maybe, just maybe, he would choose to be happy with her when all this was finally over...

Yes, she would like that very much indeed...

Ginny came to with a start, rubbing her eyes at the unexpected sight of sunlight. Hadn't it been nighttime just moments ago?

Time had disappeared and she hadn't even noticed! The moon was dimmer now, as the first rays of the sun began to tinge the morning sky. Ginny yawned and stretched her arms out, realizing just how sleepy she was.

By now she'd reached the end of the path – the walkable part of it anyway. There was a fork; one way would loop around and bring her back to the Burrow and the other extended out past the edge of the magical defenses.

Ginny steadily made her way back to the house, her idle thoughts falling upon Harry again. When the Burrow came into view, she halted, as a memory of Hermione came to her, unbidden. The two of them had been standing right at this spot a few weeks ago and Hermione had very innocently asked Gérard about the defenses around the Burrow. What had she really been up to then? Had she been plotting _her_ kidnapping then?

With a stubborn frown, she kicked a stray rock and watched it implode as it struck the barrier, leaving behind a miniature puff of dirt in the air. She smirked, thinking of what would happen if Hermione got kicked into the defenses instead. Though she felt a little more reassured about their security, nothing could ever repeal the feeling of betrayal that was still fresh in her mind.

_Hermione._ The mere thought of her old friend made her feel uneasy, unsafe – but above all else she felt angry. Ginny didn't dare think of what she might do if she saw Hermione again.

Once she was inside the house she hastened up the steps to Harry's room, intent on checking up on him one last time before she went to sleep...

**OoOoO**

She had expected to be falling. She had expected that a great portal would have opened up, sucked her right in, and then spit her out in a street somewhere, aching and disoriented. None of those things had happened, however, as she had simply opened her eyes to find that she was no longer confined to her stone platform in World's End.

Despite the fact that she felt more than fine at the moment, Hermione still didn't know where she was. She was definitely no longer in London, as there was a thick cluster of trees in all directions around her and the forest was covered in the shadow of nighttime.

"Ugh," she groaned as a sudden wave of nausea overcame her, and she staggered over to a bush and threw up. Her sides kept heaving until she had no more to give, and she stumbled in reverse until her back found a solid tree to lean against.

Well, so much for not being disoriented. Curiously, the nauseous feeling was rapidly subsiding, and she was feeling much better now. Much, much better, in fact.

"The power of the Speaker..." she whispered to no one. "Let's see about wandless magic... _Lumos_!"

To her surprise, nothing happened. No beams of light shot out of her palms and she didn't begin to emanate brightness. That would have been silly, she mused. What had she been expecting with that spell, anyway?

Another idea popped into her head. "_Accio_ branch!"

A nearby dead tree branch that she had been eyeing hopped up and zipped into her outstretched hand.

"_Incendio_!"

Just as she had hoped, the tip of the branch caught fire, and she waved it proudly about, glad to have a torch. Unfortunately, to her surprise, the fire began to sneak down the length of the branch much more quickly than she would have liked, and she was forced to drop it onto the ground and watch it as it became fully engulfed in flames. A moment later, there was nothing left but ashes.

"Oh, Hermione, are you a witch or not?" she chided herself, remembering when Ron had shouted those same words at her so many years ago.

Closing her eyes, she thought of her home. She concentrated hard, wanting nothing more than to be there right this moment. She was spinning – and then she was standing in her bedroom. Hermione sighed and smiled happily as she looked around. It was good to be home! What time was it? Perhaps she could wake her parents up to say hello...

Hermione crept over to the window, where she stood in the shadow of the window frame, observing the empty street outside. But wait, no – it wasn't empty. She pressed her nose up to the glass and squinted her eyes. There was a man – or perhaps a woman, it was difficult to tell because whoever it was, was wearing robes – standing on the front lawn of the house across the street. Immediately the blood began pumping through her veins. This was a Muggle neighborhood. Muggles didn't wear dark robes and prowl about outside at night.

Her muscles tensed as the figure held up his arm – and Hermione could clearly see a wand in his hand – and a jet of fire shot out and toward her house.

She cried out and covered her face as the wall of fire closed in and blew through the window, knocking her back off her feet. Through the fire and the flames she could see that the figure was wearing a mask. It was a Death Eater.

"A Death Eater attack? Now?" she wondered aloud in horror. "Did the Speaker know this would happen? Did he know I would come here…?"

The Death Eater aimed his wand again and another fireball shot forth, this time blasting through the master bedroom window, interrupting her thoughts.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione jumped to her feet and sprinted into their bedroom, which she was relieved to see was empty. Her relief was replaced by confusion, and she paused in her tracks. "Mum? Dad? Where are you...?"

Another thundering fireball exploded somewhere else in the house, shaking the floor beneath her and toppling her over. Slowly she rose to her feet, wearing an aggravated expression.

"Oh, that's _it_."

She took a giant step through a gaping hole in the wall onto her front lawn, choking on the rising smoke as she did so. Hermione rubbed her stinging eyes and glared ahead at the lone masked man. He was standing still about twenty meters away, with his wand held cautiously at his side. For a few heartbeats, they both stood there, neither of them making a move.

"Go away," ordered Hermione after taking a deep breath. "Or – or I'll…I'll kill you!"

The Death Eater chuckled. "The Order isn't here to protect you, little girl. As far as they're concerned, nothing is happening at all right now..."

He raised his wand, preparing to murder the unarmed witch when she suddenly shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" and disarmed him.

She was surprised, but no more than he was. Hermione managed to arch her eyebrow at him as she caught his wand.

He wasn't stunned for long. He lunged at her, hoping he could use his larger body to wrestle his wand away from her. However, before he could close the distance between them, Hermione jerked her hand up and a wave of magic rushed out from her palm. It was just barely visible in the air for a second before it struck him in the chest and lifted him off his feet.

Now he was at Hermione's mercy, suspended a few meters above the ground, floating helplessly in midair.

She beckoned at him and he drifted toward her a few feet. Her fingers bent and she pulled her hand back; his Death Eater mask fell off and dropped to the ground, revealing the face of a frightened young man. He was utterly unfamiliar to her and she felt no compassion for him. Hermione fixed him with a wintry stare and she tilted her chin up, doing her best to try and look imposing.

"W-what do you want with me?"

"I…." Hermione hesitated, and then she sighed. "I want you to take me to Lord Voldemort –"

"You dare speak his name –"

She shook her hand back and forth and his body did the same.

"Shut up! Where is he?"

"I – don't – know! Put me down!"

"No." She started thumping him along the ground. "Tell me!"

His lip had split, and for a second Hermione almost felt bad for him until she realized that this man had just destroyed her home. He sneered and spat at her. Hermione's jaw fell open in indignation and she shook him again.

"_Stop_!" he hissed.

"Take me to him!" she commanded, bouncing his body along the ground.

"You filthy Mudblood, I'll -"

Hermione pushed out with her hand until he was over the street and then she swung her arm down as hard as she could, slamming the Death Eater into the solid pavement. The asphalt cracked and caved in underneath his body. A shiver danced down her spine as she realized just how much power she had really been given by the Speaker...and she paused as she wondered whether it had been _her_ decision to perform such an act of violence or if it had been someone else's idea... She hadn't really just hurled him into the street, had she...?

A feeble groan escaped his lips, pulling her back to the moment. Idly she wondered if he would ever be able to walk again. She shook her head and strode over to him, where he was sprawled out with one of his legs bent underneath him. With a disdainful look, she prodded him in the side with her foot.

"Don't call me that again. I'd rather not be forced to break anything else of yours. Now," she continued, "are you ready to cooperate?"

"Bitch," he spat. "You...you have no _right_."

Her hand darted down and seized his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. She felt her breathing begin to slow down and her senses began to quiet... No longer could she detect the sharp scent of the smoke, nor could she feel the warmth of the fire nor the slight evening breeze – her senses and her conscious were focused on the man's eyes. She felt entirely confident that the spell she was about to cast would work, even though she had never used it before and she didn't even know _how_ it would work. All Hermione knew was that _it would work_, and for the second time that night she felt a cold sensation trickle down her back.

She took a deep breath and then whispered, "_Legilimens_."

**Author's Note:**

Go me! 2,800 words in two months! As always, reviews are a good way to let me know if you're enjoying the story.

Ryan

December 19, 2007


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